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by cjbloomfield



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Holiday Fic Exchange, Holiday Party but Not Really, Insecurity, Jealousy, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjbloomfield/pseuds/cjbloomfield
Summary: Prompt: Olivia has finally decided to tell Rafael her feelings at the holiday party they've both been invited to - just in time to see him there with someone else.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48
Collections: Barson Secret Santa 2020





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [Handfulofdust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Handfulofdust/gifts).



> This gift is for Kim (@Handful_ofdust on twitter / Handfulofdust on A03), I hope I did your prompt justice and you enjoy.

“I heard Barba’s in town,” Fin wedged himself in the opening of Olivia’s office.

“Yeah, he moved back home permanently, you can take the man out of New York City but you can’t take New York City out of a man.” Olivia shrugged nonchalantly.

“I heard he was invited to the Mayor’s Winter Gala.” Fin raised a single bushy eyebrow.

“Oh? Is he being honored for something?” Olivia’s eyes never left her computer, pretending she didn’t already know the information being relayed to her.

“Yeah, think I heard that too,” He lamely rolled his eyes.

“Who are you hearing all this information from?” Olivia leaned back into her seat, arms folded, eyes squinted, lips pressed into a thin line.

“That’s beside the point. I also heard ya haven’t RSVPed and you’re a guest of honor.”

“Fin you know I hate events that have to do with bigwigs and politics.”

“Yeah, but ya miss ya best friend.”

“You’re my best friend,” she cheekily responds.

“Yeah, not even in the same realm as Barba. Ya can act like all this is water off ya back, but Liv you ain’t fooling anyone.” He eyes her knowingly. “It’s okay to miss ‘em. That don’t make you weak.”

“Fin—“

“Nah, Liv.” His words are chilling, the sentiment lingering, she knew what was next. “We been friends for what? Twenty years?”

“Twenty-one.” She corrects him.

“And in them twenty-one years, I ain’t ever seen you glow like that while just in the mere presence of anyone who wasn’t Barba.” Olivia’s troubling thoughts fill her hazy mind. She takes her worries out on her bottom lip, as she chews the peeling flesh. “No one’s absence has ever affected you this much, _no one_.” He emphasizes.

“What am I supposed to do Fin?” She sighs, running her fingers through her hair. “Throw myself at his feet? Beg him to love me back?”

“Olivia Benson...you can’t be foreal.” He eyes her as if she’d grown a third head. “Rafael Barba has loved you—been in love with you since the first day he laid eyes on you.” He steps further into the office, perching himself on the corner edge of her desk, looking away Olivia swallows the bile rising in her throat. No one ever took up residence there except her best friend.

“He didn’—“

“Olivia I ain’t gone to argue with you over sumn everyone else knows as facts.” Olivia’s back stiffens. “All I’m askin’ Liv is for you to take a chance. For once in your life gamble with your heart. You know better than anyone else, Barba’s worth it.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m what?” His shit-eating grin took over his face.

“Oh, hush.”

“So you’re going?”

“I’m going.”

“To?”

“To get my man.”

* * *

Olivia’s focus was scattered, so filled with nervous anticipation she was about to see her best friend for the first time in person, in nearly two years. She could barely carry a conversation with her hyperactive seven years old nor could she sit still while her thoughts danced in infinite directions— imagining every possible outcome. She could picture it already— holding hands, chaste kisses, love-filled gazes— a tingling feeling spread throughout her entire body. The Olivia love felt for Rafael Barba was nearly inexplicable; consummate and blazing, it’s systemic, it is ingrained into her— she was starved for love. Just once, she wanted to know what it was like to get her fill of it — to be fed so much love she could barely breathe, so stuffed to the brim she trod the line of explosion.

Olivia ran her fingers over the strapless empire waist silk dress, a little snug around the waist, the lustrous silver material hugged her shape so delicately—accentuating the buoyancy of her alluring breast, to the all-encompassing curve of her shapely hips, down to her ass rounded to perfection—the side slit began mid-thigh, falling gracefully against the tan skin of off her long legs.

Olivia knew she looked stunning in her dress tonight— if her thoughts were visible they‘d reflect an inverse explosion, crazy chaotic turns and twists of light intermingling together, though they spin in a way that appears without design or logic, they always dance their way back to love, to a way of living that celebrates life without damaging the very people she held dearest. All this to say, _would Barba think she looked good too?_ Crossing her fingers, Olivia grabbed her shall, kissing her son goodnight while tucking her clutch under her arm before making her way out of the front door.

* * *

Townhall outshined the New York City skyline with its extravagant decor. The archway had been decked out in twinkling fairy lights in shades of red, green, and blue coiled tightly around white tinsel and a green Garland. At the entrance stands a lush green tree ten feet tall, seeming to be rather slender. At the top, there’s a gold star that extends towards the high ceilings. The lights twinkle mocking the dance of shooting stars, a royal blue tree skirt with a snowflake pattern adorns the ground. An old-fashioned smoke train moves across the peripheral of the tree skirt, weaving its way around the perfectly wrapped foil presents.

Olivia, a woman on a mission, searched through the crowds, fielding small talk and the unbearable political jargon until she was able to make her way to the only person who truly deserved, her attention.

“Wow.” Olivia’s neck craned in the direction of a shrill voice. “Olivia, you look beautiful.”

“Pippa Cox?” She instantly wrapped her arms around the slender ginger. “Thank you, you look wonderful yourself.” She regaled. “It’s good to see you,” she offered to the estranged woman she once used to consider a friend. The conversation was light and steady, a useful distraction to her racing thoughts, she'd been here for nearly an hour and not a single sighting of him.

“How’s—“ Olivia’s blood runs cold, unable to hear over the blood rushing to her ears, the beaming grin she’d been wearing all night vanished faster than a shooting star in the city.

She’d run over every permutation in her head but never once had she considered Rafael Barba would show up with another woman. On wobbly knees, Olivia must excuse herself to find the air that escaped her lungs.

“I—uh, I’m sorry Pippa, can you please excuse me?” Olivia waits for no response, she is making a break for it, fleeing towards solitude, where her heart can break in peace. Her teary eyes do not break away from Barba and his date, not even for a millisecond. The further she gets away from the stunning couple the easier it feels to breathe. Steeling her eyes away from the man she loves and his _date_ , Olivia hears her name booming through the loudspeaker.

“Tonight, we here at the city hall want to honor an officer who has served the community with integrity, and poise, who has gone above and beyond for the people of New York City. The Hal Lipset Truth in Action Award is presented to an individual for service to mankind by outstanding acts of compassion, heroism, leadership, achievement, and service. This year's Honoree is **Captain Olivia Benson** of Manhattan’s Special Victims Unit.” Olivia can’t seem to focus on anything except how Rafael’s fingers curl around another woman’s waist, so snuggly, so very intimately. For a minute his attention that had been solely focused on his lover clinging onto his arm breaks away as his startlingly vivid eyes scan the room in curiosity and discovery. 

The buzz in the room intensified as all eyes searched the crowd for her. The reddening of her cheeks drove her legs to move. It’s as if all air circulation had been cut off from her brain. Her heels clicked against the cold marble floors in search of reprieve. One last time she glanced back, noting the interlocking of their fingers, a grasp so tight it must be reflective of their bond—a bond that should be _hers_.

She waited too long. It’d been nine years of pining. Nine years of dancing around each other. Nine fucking years wasted. Her feelings were unreciprocated just as she’d said the day before to her inferior officer. Just once Olivia wanted to feel the love she desired but she had wasted the opportunity. All those times she turned down his offers to go for drinks, the late nights in her apartment as they hunched over case files when she could've made her move, those suggestive quick dinners and lunches that were reminiscent of dates—everything she took for granted was all she craved, the disappointment swirling around inside felt like she stood in the midst of a hurricane without a single layer of protection.

Anger bubbled inside her like a violent volcanic eruption. Charging her way out of the ballroom, Olivia finds a deserted corridor—having no idea how or when she’d gotten there, but the image of Rafael’s date filled her mind.

She stood several inches shorter than Rafael, even with her heels on—she was tiny and petite, her skin a warm shade of an ochre-esq color, much like themellow-brown light that bathed the forest. Her hair fell gently against her shoulders, soft-curls, dense but yielding, thick enough for him to lose his fingers in while playing with her scalp on a lazy Saturday evening spent on the dark leather of his couch. She wasn’t _that_ pretty, Olivia tried to convince herself. But who was she kidding? The woman is drop-dead gorgeous. Her dazzling smile revealed the bronze glow on her cheeks.

Rafael had found Olivia’s antithesis and had fallen in love with her. The woman stood no taller than 5’4, Olivia stood no chance at 5’8, making her nearly as tall as him—taller than him in those damned heels she loved so much. The mysterious woman's floor-length ball gown with a drooping neckline revealed her sylphlike figure. Her body was perfectly portioned, her breast and ass were the perfect hand full, nothing overbearing like Olivia’s own body. Insecurity thrumming in every crevice. Her curves now seeming grotesque in comparison.

Barba was into willowy melanated women.

Anger rose in Olivia like bile within her chest. _It was her._ Ever since she had laid eyes on her _she_ had caused Olivia nothing but confusion and conflict. This is what she deserved for allowing herself to feel… _something_.

Motivated by vexation and indignation, Olivia’s fingers fueled by hurt dialed numbers while blinded by tears. Barely giving the recipient a moment to greet her, she fired off, “Why did you make me come here?”

“Liv?” Fin’s confusion filled voice rang in her eardrum.

“Why couldn’t you just leave good enough alone?” She spits softly, as she stepped out into the biting cold of Manhattan air. “Take a chance, Liv!” She mocked. “ _Gamble with your heart,_ well guess what? I gambled with my heart and I lost!” She could hear Fin physically flinch.

“Liv...”

“ _Barba has been in love with you since the day he laid eyes on you_ my ass! He has a girlfriend! He’s here with another woman on the night I’m being honored. If that’s not a major, ‘fuck you,’ I don’t know what is.”

“Olivia, I—I am so sorry, we could’ve sworn...”

“She’s my inverse, Fin. He looks so happy with her. So in love. I wish I could be happy for him but I can’t. I want him to look at me that way, and no one else, I know that’s selfish but—“

“ _I looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clearly as I know that I will die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth._ I think that was Vladimir Nabokov.” A gasp escapes Olivia’s lips.

“How did you find me? How long have you been standing there?”

“That’s simple, I followed the most beautiful woman out the room.” He shrugged gently. “I got here around, _‘Barba has been in love with you since the day he laid eyes on you,’_ and they’re not wrong.”

“Rafael, don’t.” She warned. His eyebrows nearly touched his hairline in utter shock at the bite in her tone. “You have a girlfriend.” She turned away from him. “So don’t go waxing poetic with me.”

“A girlfriend?” Rafael’s intonation peeked. “Olivia, what are you talking about? I haven’t been able to date another woman since I met you.”

“Then who the hell was that, Rafael? You two were _mighty_ comfortable in there—holding hands, wrapping yourself around her, being so damn close!”

“Wha—are you talking about Giselle?”

“Oh, is that her name?” She spits sarcastically. “I’m glad you two are so happy together, but it would be lovely if you weren’t so damn touchy-feely in public.”

“Olivia are you jealous?” His eyes peered into her soul and studied her, relearning her ins and outs, refamiliarizing himself withOlivia Benson— reading her in a manner in which only _he_ could.

“N—“

Rafael had heard enough, rolling his eyes he grabbed her hips, pulling her into him with a force unknown to either of them, without any preamble his lips collide into hers. The kiss unraveled her, unfurling her anger instantaneously, his lips against hers rushed her body with the sweetness of passion, and a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment,emotions transcending the works of the all great poets combined.

Reluctantly, Barba pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers, panting to catch his breath. “It’s you Liv, it’s always been you.” He mumbled against her lips, leaning in to land a chaste kiss against her swollen appendages. 

“Rafa...” she is rendered speechless, he’d stolen her voice with his lips. “You have a...” her protest dies on her lips.

“Giselle is my cousin,” he pulls away but never breaking contact.

“Your cousin?” Olivia is dumbfounded and a bit embarrassed.

“Cubans are very physical and affectionate with family. I’m sorry if you felt like I—“

“Don’t apologize. Don’t explain. I don’t want to waste another moment, Barba.” Her lips gravitated toward his once again.

“Shit, finally. Nine years was damn long enough.” Odafin’s voice breaks through the speaker before the line goes dead. His comment not deterring the antsy couple from their journey of discovery and rediscovery. In this kiss, they’d finally found home.


End file.
